warned them that it was time for the proctor to begin his nightly rounds of discovery.
Frank Simpson began football practice with the scrub eleven the next day, and though he was sneered at by some, Tom and his friends on the 'varsity at once saw that the Californian knew the game. Mr. Lighton did not have to have his attention called to the work of the newcomer, for he picked him out at once, and kept his eyes on him during the warm-up play.
"I shouldn't wonder but what there'd be 'varsity material there," the coach confided to the captain after the practice game was over, when the scrub had rolled up two touchdows against their mates.
"The land knows we need something to brace us up," replied Kindlings, somewhat despondently. "Sam Looper is getting worse instead of better. They tore big holes through him to-day."
"I know it," admitted Mr. Lighton. "And what will happen when Boxer Hall tackles us can be more than imagined, unless there's a big improvement. But I'm going to watch Simpson."
The big Californian was of a genial temperament, and he endeavored to make friends with his fellows on the scrub, but, somehow or other, they rather resented his advances, and turned the cold shoulder to him. Hurt, but not despairing, Frank "flocked by himself" for a few days. He
